Change Their Worlds
by Megan0104
Summary: Beck, Jade, Tori, and Robbie are all attending Hollywood Arts as a group of un-coordinated freshman. What will ensue when Robbie and Beck stumble upon the duo of Jade and Tori? Rewritten as a collab done with the wonderfully amazing Maybewolf
1. Chapter 1

This is a collab that was done with the wonderfully amazing Maybewolf, So you guys should go check out his work and whatnot

_**And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds; **_

_**are immune to your consultations, they're quite**_

_** aware of what they're going through**_

_**-David Bowie **_

* * *

Robbie's only ever been nervous. Ever since he can remember, there's been a tightly wound ball of anxiety in his chest. Maybe that's why he's only flirted with the idea of sleep for the past few days. It feels like he's just laid his head down when -

"Honey, you have to get out of bed now or you're going to be late."

It's a familiar refrain. Robbie doesn't quite have the inclination to sit upright, but he does manage to roll toward the door. His mom is standing in the doorway, hip angled against the frame. Her thin pianist's fingers are wound around a large mug of coffee and she's elegant in all the ways Robbie isn't.

Mom is gone by the time Robbie's falling down the stairs and into his clothes. He hears the faint rumble of her reversing out of the driveway. There's an open casting call today, a small independent movie of some sort, she'd said. Peering absently into his coffee, Robbie hopes she gets it. For a former valedictorian at Hollywood Arts, his mom's career hasn't ever really rocket into the stars like everybody had expected. Sometimes Robbie wonders if that's why she was so happy when he got his acceptance letter. Sometimes he also wonders if his mom is why he got his acceptance letter. He's never really felt exceptionally talented or anything. Maybe Hollywood Arts is just in his blood.

Downing the last of his coffee, Robbie drops his mug onto the counter and wanders back in the direction of the living room. His bag is sitting limply against the wall beside the front door, maybe still recovering from the several times Robbie had packed and repacked it over the weekend. Snatching it up, he resists the urge to reassess its contents and just opens the front door instead.

It was supposed to rain today, the weatherman had been so adamant about it. Yet, when Robbie steps outside, the sun is already beginning its slow ascent of the sky. There isn't even a wisp of cloud in the sky. It's beautiful. More then that, it's bright, exceptionally so. The glaring sun reminds Robbie of the blinding lights of his Hollywood Arts audition. He feels like a weed among the flowers all over again.

That creeping dread follows Robbie all the way over to his neighbour's driveway, nipping at his heels when he steps onto their porch. Raising a tentative hand, Robbie raps his knuckles against the door. There's a small commotion, and then Beck appears from behind the doorway. He's bleary eyed and yawning, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Beck. It's our first day at the best high school in Hollywood; we're going to look terrible if we're late." Robbie hisses, eyes narrowing to slits. Beck's eyebrows rise slightly, but he mostly just looks apathetic in the wake of Robbie's outburst.

"S'fine. I'll be back in a minute." Beck announces, shoulders shrugging dispassionately as he disappears behind the door again.

Rocking on his heels, Robbie shoves his hands into his pockets. The thing about Beck though, is that he's been like that since the Oliver's moved in next door over the summer. He's tall and good looking, the exact type of person one might expect at Hollywood Arts. Robbie fully expects him to shake loose the stigma of being that foreign kid and assemble a legion of friends before the end of first period. Even still, Robbie's a little bit grateful that Beck had been – by his standards – fairly insistent that they walk to school together. He clings to it as a sign that maybe Beck isn't so relaxed about the prospect of high school at the most prestigious performing arts academy in Hollywood.

Or maybe he is.

Beck leads them through the gates, effortlessly cool in a disaffected way that Robbie wonders if all Canadians possess. He's the relentless calm to Robbie's manic energy. The hallways are huge, cavernous and winding. Everybody else looks so assured, like they know exactly where they are. Even Beck's fallen into that pattern. Robbie's eternally grateful that they're both late admissions, their lockers are together. He doesn't think he ever would have otherwise.

He's also eternally grateful that his first class is with Beck. They settle into their seats and for a cluster of stolen moments, things feel normal. Beck tells Robbie about another one of the bizarre movies they've watched over the summer. Apparently this one had been really good. Beck's sentences progress beyond monosyllabic. They're just falling into the easy rhythm of conversation when -

Uh, it's the homeless man Robbie had given his lunch money to on the way to school. Clutching his chair, Robbie feels on edge. He swallows hard, scanning the room. Nobody bats an eyelid.

"Good morning everybody," The vagrant booms, enunciating his words more than Robbie would have expected. "Before we begin, I'd like to thank the afro-headed young man for his not required, but very generous donation of five dollars."

The class laughs, and Robbie is officially a joke

When the bell rings, Robbie is quick to leap from his seat and fly toward the door, tugging his bag behind himself. Beck follows suit, trailing in Robbie's shadow for once. He hasn't quite amassed the following Robbie had expected. He hasn't really even bothered initiating conversation with anybody other than Robbie, actually.

They meander down the hallway, conversation centring on how weird their new school is. The bell, in particular, is particularly odd they agree. Beck might be Canadian, and thus unreliable in his assessment of Hollywood Arts being strange, but Robbie feels relieved nonetheless. At least its not just him. His relief is short-lived, though. Beck's eyes trace their timetables, and he says they'll have to catch up during lunch period. Robbie's been placed into advanced English, while Beck has Biology. Dismayed, Robbie waves limply to Beck's shrinking form.

English isn't so bad. Robbie ends up sitting beside a kid that's possibly stranger than he is. Buried beneath a wiry mop of blonde hair, the boy's features are almost as alien as the way he speaks. Words slither from his lips halfway between a murmur jostled from his lips and a sneer at the people around them. There's something unmistakably malignant simmering behind them, its unnerving. Some time into the class, Robbie learns that the boys name is Sinjin. Swallowing, Robbie belatedly introduces himself as well. The bell rings shortly afterwards, its an immense relief.

Robbie's next class is Chemistry. He sits alone this time, hovering at the edge of the class, wiry limbs all coiled up as the teacher goes over the semester syllabus. Robbie takes down illegible notes that period, fingers clumsy because of the girl sitting in the lab beside him. She's leaning heavily against the bench in front of her, chin resting in one palm as she absently twirls a pencil in her other hand. Ocasionally she etches something Mr Ferguson has said into her notebook, the pink tip of her tongue splitting her lips as she does so. Class ends before Robbie has the chance to get her name. He blinks and then the pretty girl is packing up her stationary, laughing at something her menacing friend – Jade apparently - has said. He blinks again, and then the pretty girl disappearing into the endless hallways.

Robbie has lunch period after that. The halls are alight with students when Robbie leaves the Chemistry labs, but Beck is posted against their lockers just like he said he would be. An army has surrounded him, a troop of sophomore girls, from the looks of it. Beck's shoulders are hunched, and it gives him the vague semblance of somebody under siege. Effortlessly, Robbie scares the girls away just by introducing himself. Yeah, it's a great special talent to have.

"I really appreciate that." Beck drawls, expelling a relieved breath. Corralling Robbie with his arm, Beck shepherds him in what's apparently the direction of the Hollywood Arts Cafeteria.

Well, it would have been the cafeteria if Hollywood Arts were a normal school. As it is, Robbie finds himself in the shadow of a large and somewhat grimy truck. Emblazoned across its roof is "Grub Truck", which is fairly disconcerting in and of its self.

"I know you gave away your lunch money and you can't eat like, food, so I got you this salad." Beck announces, moments later, returning from The Grub Truck and betraying a slightly sense of triumph.

"You're! This is – thanks man." Fighting the urge to gush, Robbie settles on a not quite emasculating thank you.

As they pick their way through the tables strewn around the quad, Robbie's surely grinning. He's never really been on good enough terms with somebody to have them buy lunch for him. It feels like Beck and himself had been hovering around that awkward line of friends and neighbours, but as of now, they've passed over it. The salad in Robbie's hands feels like a treasure, he feels slightly aggrieved that he'll have to eat it.

Beck eventually deems a table beneath some stairs as the perfect place to eat, dropping onto one of the steel benches. Like a machine whose gears aren't quite aligned correctly, Robbie jerks into motion and takes a seat as well. Beck tears into his burrito once they're both seated; inhaling it in roughly the time it takes Robbie to pry apart the packaging of his salad. The intermittent rumble of people rushing up and down the stairs is the soundtrack to their meal.

"So this is high school, huh?" Beck drops the words into the air with a dull thud, casting a discerning gaze past Robbie and around the quad.

"It's terrifying." Robbie looks down at his hands with the comment, sincerely meaning it. When Robbie looks up again, Beck's chuckling, smirking at him like he's some kind of great comic. Robbie might feel the slightest bit proud if he'd been aiming for irony.

"It's – Actually yeah, I'm with you Rob." The shift in Beck's tone is jarring, a slight but very sudden wave of panic ripping though it. Jerking his head in the direction of what Beck is staring at, Robbie finds himself looking at a cluster of freshmen girls. Out of context it's not so sinister, but Robbie knows they've been trailing Beck all morning.

"The girls here are so weird and not in a good way." Beck says after a moment, grimacing.

"You can be weird in a good way?" Honestly, the thoughts never occurred to Robbie. Ever since he tried to convince his Kindergarten class that his Dad's old puppet was a real boy, people have pretty much written him off. It's been a plague, infecting every semester since then. If past experience is anything to go by, Robbie knows the story will land at Hollywood Arts any day now. Maybe this time will be different though. Maybe this time he'll be waiting for it, a vaccine in the form of Beck's advice clutched in his hand. Anxiously, Robbie leans forward in his seat, eager for a cure.

"Yeah," Beck hums, face passive as he considers his next words. It's an agonizing wait before Beck elaborates; Robbie's foot begins to twitch, tapping against the ground. It's a nervous, maybe slightly impatient habit. "You don't think people thought Galileo was a normal dude, do you Rob? Everyone thought the universe revolved around us and there he was, all like no guys, we're revolving around the sun. That's weird."

Beck's words are murky. The kind of hippy wisdom one might stumble across in a street market. Robbie guesses its Beck's attempt at reassurance. It's better than the ugly duckling comparison that his mom makes at least once a month when she thinks he's looking particularly downtrodden at least.

"The girls here though, not Galileo weird." Beck muses, plucking Robbie from his thoughts. Swinging his head towards them momentarily, another shudder rips through Beck. "They're, I don't know, zombies or something. Like Children of the Corn weird I think."

The twinge of unease that's been swimming around in Robbie's stomach all morning vanishes. The guy he's been slightly intimidated by all morning vanishes. He's reminded of the intensely detailed and incredibly nerdy explanation Beck had given him on the lore behind Children of the Corn during the summer. He's reminded of the wide eyed kid in the hockey jersey that had turned up on his doorstep during the summer. He's reminded of the shanty town that they'd built in front of the television a few days later. The concept of Beck Oliver leading a cult of starry-eyed girls suddenly seems absurd.

"So you're saying that no, you don't want a cult?" Robbie asks dryly, recovering his penchant for sarcasm.

"Shockingly I do not want a cult. Too much trouble." Beck frowns at the notion or possibly the effort required. If his relentless cool is an act, the laziness that's been pulled into his character is the most authentic part. Some days Robbie wonders how his parents managed to get him all the way from Thunder Bay, Ontario to Los Angeles, California.

"Besides, if I'm going to commit to anything – which I'm probably not going to ever do, then I want it to be to a girl that has her own personality or something." Beck elaborates, features tightening slightly with the mention of commitment. "I just – I don't want to go through life thinking everything I do is right. If I've screwed up, I want her to tell me. I really - I don't want to date a robot or some brainwashed follower that's going to do everything I say."

"Yeah." Robbie comments ineloquently.

There's silence after that, but before it can quite solidify and become awkward, the sound of a guitar being strummed drifts across the quad. Soon a voice is weaving its way through the chords. Soft and sweet, angels wish they could sound that way. Robbie's eyes crawl over the crowded area, eventually singling out the source of the melody.

Huddled around a table that's slightly obscured by The Grub Truck, is a somebody Robbie recognises from first period. He'd introduced himself as Andre with a friendly handshake. His dreadlocks are gently swaying in time with the song he's coaxing from the guitar resting against the crook of his hip. To Andre's left, bobbing along with the beat, hands tapping lightly on the table, is the girl from his chemistry class. Her eyes are shut, eyebrows clinched together with concentration as she sings.

Robbie's Adam's apple bobs nervously in his throat. He can't quite shake the feeling that he should be paying to hear this. It just makes him feel more out of place then before. While he's doing battle with this, his latest insecurity, Andre is letting the last note of the song ring from his guitar. So far removed from the world is Robbie, that he doesn't notice the girl's eyelids part with the end of the song. She scans the quad, insecurity dictating the way she bites down on her bottom lip. Robbie doesn't notice that her eyes have frozen on him until he's drowning in their coffee depths.

Realising that she's looking at him, Robbie's heart twitches a mad beat, pounding against his chest. Belatedly, he whimpers and throws a textbook up between himself and the girl. Laughter he can take, derision he's used to. The curiosity in the way her eyes had lingered on him, he hadn't been ready for that. Sinking into his seat, Robbie tries to busy himself with studying the algebra equations in front of his eyes.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Beck asks, eyes flicking toward Robbie. It's not concern that edges his voice, its amusement.

"Studying." Robbie mumbles, entirely unconvincing.

"Yeah, okay. I'm sure this has nothing to do with cheekbones across the quad." Robbie's first reaction is to agree with Beck's assessment. His second reaction is to stain an incredibly unflattering shade of puce.

"She smiled when you freaked out, by the way." Beck adds, absentmindedly scrubbing the spot on his chin where he's attempting to cultivate facial hair.

Making a shrill sound of disagreement, Robbie slowly inches upright again. Peering surreptitiously over the top of his book, Robbie finds his mutinous eyes straying across the quad again. This girl – Cheekbones for now, he guesses – is smiling benignly at something Jade has said. Her cheekbones, high and perfect are flushed with a slight pink stain. Robbie guesses its something Jade has said. She seems the type to make an off colour remark. Illogical as it seems, Robbie finds himself wishing that they were cackling and impersonating the way he'd dove behind a book. It would make dulling the insistent thrum of his heart that little bit easier. As it is though, Robbie knows he'll continue to be poisoned by hope.

"I like her." Beck comments, eyebrow cocked. A sudden panic rises within Robbie. As much nerdiness as Beck might be smuggling behind his placid Canadian demeanour, he's still smuggling it beneath a winning smile and broad shoulders. He feels the cool sting of reality fighting off the hopeful infection in her heart.

"W-who Cheekbones?" Robbie asks, wincing with the horrible feeling that he doesn't even know the girls name.

"Tori." Beck corrects him, brushing off Robbie's impending demand of how he knows that with a casual wave. "And no, not her. The girl beside her." He adds, nodding appreciatively at Jade.

"Jade." Robbie states, a little bit stricken by the irony of it all. "She's a little Vampira for you, isn't she?" Robbie asks hopefully. The smile he twitches in Beck's direction clatters to the ground when Jade's furious eyes land on him. Squeaking pitifully, Robbie decides to never take her name in vein again. He doesn't even know how Jade heard him.

"In all the right ways." Beck nods, tone veering toward reverent as he glances over to Jade. Oddly, when Jade notices Beck leering at her, she doesn't regard him with the vicious intent Robbie had experienced. Her response is swift and brutal. Heaving an aggravated sigh, Jade slaps her hands against the table and flies to her feet. With practiced determination, Jade sinks her claws into Tori's shoulder and hauls the girl out of sight.

"I think she likes you." Robbie can't help himself, his lips split with a wide smile.

Rolling his eyes, Beck twists his lips as a thought strikes him. "So that Tori girl, you'd better ask her out fast Rob. Daniels was talking about her last period. I think he knows her from middle school or something because he kept commenting on how summer was really good to her."

Robbie freezes with that piece of information. A sickly combination of loathing and longing sticking to the inside of his throat. Daniels, he doesn't even know the guys first name. Tori, he wishes she were a permanent fixture in his life. Wedging his thumb between his teeth, Robbie gnaws at it anxiously. Since he can remember, Television has drilled it into Robbie's head that adolescence is needlessly complicated, but he never expected things to become so convoluted on his first day of High School.

* * *

Hope you guys genuinely enjoyed this, so if you did, you should leave a review, it makes us happy as authors


	2. Chapter 2

As he walks through the school gates, the afternoon's orange sunlight ablaze on his skin, Robbie's chest deflates. He releases a breath he hadn't really been consciously holding. To his left, Beck is talking about a new movie he wants to see, something about scissors and little girls returning from the dead. Robbie's not really paying attention, too wrapped up in his thoughts. High school, it's not quite the collage of bullying and being shoved into lockers that he'd expected. It's also needlessly confusing, a disorientating blur of new faces and the emotions associated with them.

"So you're coming, right?" Beck asks, yanking Robbie out of his thoughts and into conversation.

"Uh yeah, sure." Robbie mumbles, brows knitted together as his eyes flick to Beck.

"I knew you'd be down." Beck affirms, grinning like a madman. It's not at all reassuring. While it's nice to be down, the uneasy feeling prickling the back of his neck makes Robbie wonder just what exactly he's agreed to. He doesn't ask though, not when Beck is the only person at Hollywood Art he can really call a friend.

The rest of the way back to their street, Beck espouses his views on the symbolism behind the use of scissors in horror movies. Robbie knows this because he trains his ears to Beck and nothing but Beck's words. The exact nature of what he's agreed to never quite slips into Beck's words again though. By the time Beck's clapping him on the shoulder and hopping over the fence to his house, Robbie's still in the dark. Frowning, he watches Beck for a moment before trudging the rest of the way home, mind adrift in a sea of possibilities.

Eventually pushing the thoughts aside, Robbie unlocks the house he's called home for the past three years. The living room is empty when Robbie steps into it, a familiar sight. Grimacing at how hollow everything feels, Robbie makes his way into a kitchen, dropping his backpack beside the dining table. Apathetically, maybe because he's spent most of the day beside Beck, Robbie shoves his hands into the refrigerator and snags a can of Wahoo Punch. Robbie kind of despises the Pineapple flavour that consistently flood the fridge, but at least his mom does the shopping, he guesses.

The night is almost violent in its refusal to move forward. By the time Robbie has drained his Wahoo Punch and finished the meagre amount of homework assigned to him, it's barely past 6 O'clock. He's draped over the couch, a rerun of Drake & Josh buzzing in the background, when his phone goes off. Tugging it from his pocket, Robbie's slightly underwhelmed that his mom's name is splayed across the screen. Tapping the icon, he opens the message.

Mom's been invited to dinner along with several of the more promising candidates, attending is critical to her chances of being chosen, she says. Robbie smiles thinly at the tone in his mom's words. He feels like he's been cast as the parent in this situation as he taps out a quick replay telling his mom to go for it.

Sighing roughly, Robbie drops his phone onto the cushion beside him. It's great news really, the sort they've both been waiting on for months. Selfishly though, Robbie wishes his mom were around though, to break up the monotony if nothing else.

Dinner is a quiet affair, as is the rest of the night following it. By the time it's 10 O'clock, Robbie feels relieved. It's late enough to fall into bed without feeling like a total failure of a teenager. He slips between his Galaxy Wars sheets, and maybe his body is just as bored as he is, because sleep soon follows.

Robbie's eyes flutter open to furious red numbers. Bleary-eyed, he stars at them for a half dozen flashes, mind slow to click into gear. With comprehension comes Robbie stumbling out of bed and into a clean pair of jeans. As he thunders down the stairs, Robbie's suddenly thankful that he'd been bored enough to shower twice last night. On the way out the door, he doesn't so much eat an apple as he does inhale it.

The journey to Beck's house isn't a long one. In fact, Robbie spends less time walking there than he does waiting on the porch, impatiently drumming the doorbell with his index finger. When Beck finally answers the door, he's still wearing a ratty hockey jersey and sweatpants, while Robbie has been waiting for eight and a half crucial minutes. Beck's hair is hanging limply over his eyes, and he barely seems conscious as he twitches an arm up in greeting. A strangled sound leaps from Robbie's throat, shortly followed by comprehension.

"You're not – why aren't you dressed yet?" Robbie erupts incredulously, arms jolting in Beck's direction and then dropping back to his sides.

"Uh, the movie isn't until eleven. I was sleeping." Beck grunts in response, with all the finesse of a caveman. Robbie's eyes blow wide open with that statement and slightly manically, he rakes a hand through his hair.

"The movie?" Robbie demands, dropping his hands into fists and stooping forward slightly. "We've got school, school Beckett."

In response to Robbie's scathing summation of the situation, Beck absently lifts an arm and scrubs imaginary wax from his ear. Quirking his head to the side, Beck assesses Robbie for a moment, dark eyes narrowing slightly. "You uh, you do remember agreeing to ditch class, don't you?"

All of the blazing, righteous anger in Robbie's gut freezes with the question. His jaw snaps shut with a soft click and he straightens. Words from yesterday drift into his head. They're muffled by his own thoughts of the day, indistinct. Among the murk, stray words that correlate with what Beck is saying begin to appear. Swallowing, Robbie assembles his expression into something apologetic. Beck watches him for a moment, eyes discerning.

"I'm –"

"It's cool man. I'll see you later. Just like, cover for me or something." Robbie doesn't even get the chance to spit out his apology before Beck's accepting it. Their first argument had fizzled out before it's even begun.

"Yeah, I'll – I have to go, but it'll be good, I promise!" Robbie affirms, shouldering his backpack and twisting toward the footpath. Beck waves magnanimously as Robbie leaps off the porch and toward the footpath. Feeling fortunate and slightly envious of Beck's ability to remain unperturbed in even the most adverse situations, Robbie advances toward the horizon.

The walk to Hollywood Arts, without Beck's chatter, it's longer than Robbie remembers. Still, it's not so bad. The quietness of it all – amidst the occasional scream of a car horn – gives Robbie the chance to prepare himself for his second day at high school. Given he's running into the onslaught of unfamiliar faces alone this time, that's something Robbie is desperately grateful for. By the time the silhouette of the school is poking its head into view, Robbie's thoughts have begun to hover around chemistry class and the girl he'd first seen inside of it.

Shoving Hollywood Arts' front doors open, Robbie barrels into an empty hallway. Taking slow, loping strides, Robbie hesitantly steps toward his locker. The stillness of it all is eerie, a glaring contrast to the buzz of activity that had greeted Beck and himself yesterday. Robbie's just managed to fish his locker key from his pocket when the Hollywood Arts bell reverberated through the air. Convulsing from the shock of it, Robbie drops the key. It clatters against the polished floor below him, impossibly loud. A jangling alarm bent on alerting any faculty members within the school walls to his tardy presence.

The Science department is fortunately enough, only a few narrow corridors from Robbie's locker. He's standing in front of classroom S01.04, palm resting hesitantly against it, just a few moments later. With a slow, reluctant nod, Robbie carefully steps forward and wedges the door open with his shoulder. The hinges scream as Robbie takes his first step into the room, pulling discerning stares from half of the classroom. They're not the thing that catches Robbie's breath in his throat though. The sight that seizes Robbie's limbs and freezes his limbs is the expression on his teacher's face.

"Mister Shapiro, you're late." Mr Ferguson hisses, eyes cold and grey as he regards this, the latest intrusion on his lesson.

"I'm uh, yes. I'm not early." Robbie squeaks, hands jittery as he shuts the door behind himself. Several additional faces twist toward Robbie with that rather ineloquent statement, several of them snickering. In directing his eyes toward anything but Mr Ferguson, Robbie comes to realise all of the desks are occupied by at least one person.

"Correct. Take a seat please." It's as if Mr Ferguson has seen into Robbie's mind and plucked this latest insecurity from its depths as he speaks. Robbie's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, horror crawling over his expression as he whips his head from one side of the room to the other.

Looking excessively pained by Robbie's slow response, Mr Ferguson drags the decision from Robbie's hands with his next instructions. "Next to Miss Vega, if you don't mind." He intones, hanging an arm in Tori's direction.

Robbie blinks. He tenses the muscles in his jaw; somehow keeping it from slamming into the tiles below as Tori twists around and points to herself. Far from the sneer he's expecting, her lips have creased with a light smile. It's a welcoming expression, yet it's more intimidating then any glare. Swallowing the lump of iron in his throat, Robbie shuffles forward, feet inching forward in the smallest increments he can muster. Finally reaching the seat beside Tori, Jade's seat, Robbie hesitantly lowers himself onto it. Though he's careful not to make a show of himself, Robbie's neck prickles, with the feeling of being watched. As he swings his head toward the girl beside him, a gentle laugh gets swept up in the air.

"Tori Vega, not a vampire or a werewolf. I don't bite and it's nice to meet you." The introduction comes with a crooked grin and eyes brimming with the type of playful energy one might expect from a puppy or a kitten.

It's then that Robbie's jaw swings loose, hanging slack because man she's so pretty and she's treating him like an actual human person. Taking a breath, Robbie carefully attempts to choreographs his lips into the smile that Beck conjures so effortlessly.

"R-Rapiro – Shobbie. Uh, Robbie Shapiro." He eventually blurts out, observing each word that drops off his lips with increasing horror.

A pained sigh emanates from the front of the classroom, yanking Robbie's attention away from Tori. With Robbie's attention refocused on the lesson, Mr Ferguson resumes his opening lecture – something about compounds. From the corner of his eye, Robbie sees Tori lifting her elbows onto their desk, tenting her hands and smothering a laugh behind them.

"Totally picturing you rapping right now." She subtly comments, words slightly muffled as they edge around her fingers.

Involuntarily, Robbie snorts with great amusement. He ducks his head, attempting to cover the sound with a cough, but his acting could apparently use a little work. When Robbie's eyes creep upwards again, Mr Ferguson is once again peering in their direction. This time it's slightly more effective in silencing Tori. She twists her eyebrows in an apologetic way, and frankly she's gorgeous. Robbie's always tried to keep his expectations low, but when Tori flashes him those kinds of expressions, he can't quite help himself.

For the next several minutes, Mr Ferguson meticulously outlines the project he's designed to dominate the next month of class time. Eventually, and thankfully, he wraps up the description with a final piece of information that will turn Robbie's life on its head. "Alright, now, this will be a group assignment. I want you all to take this time to select your lab partner. Choose carefully, you're going to be working together very closely. I'll be back with your assignment in a few minutes."

The classroom erupts into a maelstrom of movement the moment that the door clicks shut behind Mr Ferguson. A girl with tightly cropped purple hair flies past Robbie and he feels like he's a part of it all, that he's in the eye of the storm. He's not though, not really. He might as well be watching the chaos around him on a weather report. There'll be nobody skipping across the room or turning excitedly to him. Eventually the clouds will clear, there'll be one last, left out person searching amongst the huddled pairs for a partner. They'll spot Robbie and meander over to him, stone-faced and reluctant. He'll graciously accept their offer to be partners, pleasantries will be exchanged, and then his workload will magically double for a few months.

"Hey, uh Robbie. Do you have a lab partner in mind?" Tori's voice breaks Robbie from the metaphors he's wrapped the bleakness of his situation in. Slowly, hesitantly, Robbie pushes his eyes in her direction. Tori's twisted in her seat, entirely facing him. Her hands are lying in her lap, one is draped over the other and drumming a jittery beat.

She's nervous, but Robbie is the one that emits a sound that belongs somewhere deep in the Amazon. At least Tori's fingers still, her nerves soothed by Robbie's total lack of social co-ordination. Tori catches her bottom lip between her teeth, clearly more amused than irritated. It's not quite enough fuel for Robbie to muster words, but he does manage to shake his head.

"Oh good! Well not good, but uh…I was going to partner with my friend – you haven't met her, well you might have, I'm not sure. Her name is Jade, she's quite abrasive, but don't take it personally. Uh, anyway she transferred into another class. I'm not, I don't really know anybody in this class, so do you want to be uh, lab partners?"

Robbie blinks.

Tori's babbling and still gorgeous. Robbie's eyes remain fixed on her, mystified. He'd thought he was the only one with the ability to turn an eight word question into a Shakespearian monologue. Albeit a monologue loosely held together by flustered pauses and manic hand gestures.

"Yes. You and I lab partners, yes." Robbie states abruptly, shovelling the words off his tongue as quickly as possible when he realizes Tori's eyes are still trained on him. She's got every right to look disappointed, but that's not the sight confronting Robbie. Tori's lungs deflate with a relieved exhale, and her lips fly into a smile that doesn't even appear forced.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr Ferguson bursts through the door. He's cradling a mountain of papers against his abdomen and muttering about a man named Erwin breaking the copier again. Robbie immediately laments his teacher's arrival. Not because he hates science or anything, but mostly because Tori's managed to reel him into a conversation that's more than just stilted small talk and awkward pauses. That's a minor miracle in and of itself, but they've also stumbled upon a shared fondness for the nineties. Tori is in the midst of reeling off a half dozen Totally Kyle lines, accent and all, when Mr Ferguson clears his throat in a very obvious way. Smiling apologetically, Tori slowly angles herself to that she's paying attention to Mr Ferguson again. Watching as Tori flattens down the hair she'd ruffled up to look more like a 1990's Drake Bell, Robbie gets the impression Tori's never had a detention in her life.

After class, Robbie scampers back to home base, his locker. He stands there for a long while, posted against the cool steel and wondering if Beck has had a change of heart. The crowd starts to thin again, mostly shuffling in the direction of the quad. Robbie sighs, resigned to being one of those strange kids occupying an entire table all by themself.

Flinching at the sunlight Robbie steps into the quad, veins running hot with apprehension. As if aware of his close proximity to food, Robbie's stomach gurgles, alerting him to a very sudden and very intense hunger. Pursing his lips, Robbie sinks his hand into his pocket as runs his finger over his 'emergency' money. Regarding the fairly suspicious looking Grub Truck across the quad, he supposes that this qualifies and joins the end of the line.

"Uh, could I get a salad, hold the dressing?" Robbie enquires, squinting up at the menu and then the dark skinned man below it.

"No salad. Just burritos. You have two orders of Burritos." The man, Festus according to his nametag, answers. His accent is heavily accented, but Robbie can't quite place it.

Leaning out of the truck window, Festus plucks the twenty dollar bill from Robbie's hand before he has the chance to react. Robbie's mouth opens and closes, but no protests come out. Moments later, he finds himself stumbling away from the Grub Truck holding a tray of burritos that he can't actually eat.

"So, that Festus, huh?"

An elbow brushes Robbie's side, plucking his attention from an empty table beneath an outcropping of trees. Tori's there, backpack artfully draped over her shoulder, a tray bearing two salads braced against her torso. Again, his lips flail for words, but he's silent.

"He doesn't like new kids." Tori elaborates, rolling her shoulder like it's something she's had experience in. Her dark eyes flicker from the salads to Robbie, meeting his eyes. An itchy feeling, nervous and heavy, drags Robbie's eyes down to the burritos he doesn't really want. He mumbles something inaudible.

"But hey," Tori tries again, undeterred by the socially inept robot in front of her. "I think you're a swell guy, so I got you a salad too." She says, lifting the tray slightly and jiggling it enticingly.

"You – me salad?" Robbie stutters, inarticulate in the face of her relentless kindness.

"You salad, me Tori." There's a laugh hidden amongst Tori's reply, but it's mostly buried by her attempt to sound like a boy – caveboy, more accurately.

"I would uh, yes please. If I could just - do you want these burritos? We could make the exchange here, so you don't keep your friends waiting."

Tori cocks her head to the left with Robbie's fumbling attempt to release her. She regards him warily for a moment, eyebrows linking above her nose. Robbie looks around the quad, heart jumping heavily against his chest as he realises the table he'd been eying up has filled with freshmen. When he looks back to Tori, the beginnings of realization are crawling over her features. Straightening, Tori's lips curve with a smile that's perhaps a little coy.

"Robbie Shapiro," She says, with an authoritarian voice as he wonders how she knows his full name. "You can't just take my salad and run. Come and sit with Andre and I."

Swallowing thickly, Robbie jerks his head into a nod. It's not every day he finds himself invited to lunch by a girl that's cover girl pretty. With his clunky gesture, Tori flashes a dazzling smile at him that's brighter anything Robbie's seen on the red carpet and organic in all the ways an actress couldn't ever produce. Following her lead, Robbie finds himself heading toward a table currently occupied by the welcoming figure of Andre, and the less reassuring presence of Jade.

"Robbie's joining us today." Tori announces, eyes flying to Jade, challenging her to resist. Robbie huddles tightly behind her, all kinds of pathetic under the weight of Jade's cold emerald eyes.

A tense moment passes. Robbie swallows nervously, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Tori emits a low and somewhat terrifying noise that sounds a little bit like Jade's name if it were being hurled from the depths of hell. Robbie takes a halting step backward, wondering if his presence has thrown off a very delicate balance. He's contemplating an all out sprint for the Boy's bathroom – a safe haven from potentially terrifying girls – when Jade's shoulders finally jump with a complacent shrug.

"I'm eating his burritos then." She mutters to the soundtrack of Tori's triumphant shriek of glee. There's a flurry of movement after that, Jade lashing out and snatching the burritos from Robbie, Tori tugging him onto the vacant seat beside herself.

Robbie eats the salad Tori's gotten him once he's seated. It's good too, a lot better than yesterday. After that, he spends most of the ensuing time an observer, watching Andre and Jade and especially Tori interact. He occasionally ducks into the conversation, mostly when Tori or Andre ask him something. He even yanks an unintentional laugh from Jade by relaying the tale of how he'd met Sikowitz. She contorts her face into a scowl shortly after, but Tori gives him an approving nod, like maybe he's fitting in or something.

* * *

**Well, here's another chapter for you all! :D Review, it makes us happy as authors.**

**On another note, you should go check out We're Going Nowhere by Maybewolf, the fabulous author that I'm co-authoring this story with**


	3. Chapter 3

When Robbie turns up on Beck's doorstep the next day he's tense and half expecting a battle. He raps his knuckles against the thick wooden door and the ensuing footsteps behind it sound like the beat of war drums. He really hopes Beck hasn't given up on school after just the first day of the semester.

"Well, lets go." Beck's at ease while stepping through the doorway. Shifting to let Beck past, Robbie shakes his head. He's let his nerves get the best of him again. If this is a war, it's a war of the flies, insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

The streets are empty as they walk; maybe it's the chill in the air. Robbie's passively listening to Beck's recollection of his stolen day off all the way up until the tail end. With the mention of a grounding and the ensuing call to the principal Robbie's fully alert.

"My Dad is kind of a hard ass." Beck surmises, shoulders jumping like his parents haven't wrangled him special lunchtime detentions for the rest of the week.

Though he's only indirectly affected by Beck's punishment, Robbie feels his nerves fray again. All of the insecurities he'd wrestled en route to sleep last night come surging forth again. It's selfish he knows, but Robbie feels his confidence swiftly bleeding out. Lifting his thumb to his mouth and gnawing at his knuckle, Robbie finds himself confronted with the prospect of being marooned at a solitary table for the second time in a week. He doubts he'll be fortunate enough to be rescued by a passing Vega two days in a row.

When they arrive at Hollywood Arts, the corridors are still overflowing with students. Though he feels slight relief at being on time, Robbie feels slightly overwhelmed at the sheer volume of people. A dramatic contrast to yesterday, Robbie finds that he's one of the first people to arrive at Chemistry. It's reassuringly vacant and he's grateful for the opportunity to collect himself.

He's not entirely disappointed when his peace is brought to an end by Tori slipping into the seat beside him. A quick greeting breezes through her lips. She's wearing a canary yellow blouse today, a ray of sunshine in Robbie's mostly drab existence. He's not so smooth, fumbling a greeting and then asking how her night had been. Tori throws her head back at that, laughter bubbling through her lips. As she regales him with a story about how big of a disaster the Vega family games night had ended up being, Robbie can't help but grin stupidly. He forgets all about attempting to secure a seat with Tori during lunch period, squandering his opportunity to ask by tossing dated board game jokes in Tori's direction. She's in the process of offering her own terrible joke when Mr Ferguson arrives, excessively large textbook in hand.

The class flies past Robbie in a blur. He swears they've only just opened their textbooks when the bell rings again and Mr Ferguson is dismissing them. Even though Tori lingers in her seat, shuffling away her notes, Robbie still can't quite pluck up to courage to broach the subject of his impending lunchtime solitude. Tori eventually departs, wriggling her fingers in farewell. Robbie just goes to his next class, footsteps heavy with dread.

The bell for lunch period both sneaks up on Robbie and hangs over his head for the entire morning. It strikes like a bolt of lightning in the middle of a storm. Robbie jolts, limbs going rigid as though electricity has flooded his veins.

Mournfully, Robbie makes his way first to his locker, and then toward the quad. He drags his heels the entire time, attempting to swallow as much time as possible. Conversations between friends and plans for seating arrangements echo inside of Robbie's head the entire way. In spite of his sluggish pace, the quad is mostly empty when Robbie runs his eyes over it. His lungs deflate with a sigh, and shoving his hands into his pockets, Robbie meanders over to the table Beck and himself had occupied on Monday. If Beck's somehow managed to elude detention, this is where he'll come.

"Long time, no see." A voice, sunshine and sweetness laced with a trace of irony, floats over Robbie's shoulder. The dull bass of a bag dropping onto the steel table he's seated at accompanies its sweet melody. Twisting in the direction of the sound, Robbie's eyes fall upon a pair of bronzed legs sliding onto the bench beside him. Cheeks ablaze, Robbie abruptly shifts his gaze upward. He's still blinking away the shock of who is sitting next to him when Tori's carelessly launching into conversation with him.

Maybe his brain is still in shock, but Robbie actually manages to say something witty in relation to Tori's anecdote about the play she's rehearsing for. She's so aggressively friendly that Robbie's not even straining to converse with her when Andre arrives a few minutes later. He's armed with a lament about how much he hates his English class as he drops into the seat opposite to Robbie. Again, Robbie says something that is apparently funny. Andre laughs, loud and booming. Robbie's first instinct is to panic, one too many mean spirited chuckles having cut through him in the past, but Andre's eyes are crinkled appreciatively. There's no pointing or murmured slights, just amusement. Robbie feels his bones settle and his muscles loosen. The consistently present ball of tension in his chest seems to unwind slightly. Dare he say it, but Robbie actually begins to feel comfortable.

"Why are we sitting here?" Jade doesn't spit the words in Robbie's direction, but the suspicion is thick within her tone.

"Robbie saved us a table." Tori offers, taking a bite from her sandwich like this is an every day occurrence. Robbie's eyes immediately dart to her, heart pounding heavily against his chest. They've just barely met and he's saving tables for Tori, an expected and not entirely unwelcome part of her day? Robbie's just beginning to unravel the mystery of that thought when he feels Jade's eyes on him. Bristling uncomfortably, Robbie looks up at her, eyes widening with fear.

"It's dark." She muses, looking up at the hard lines of the steel balcony above them. "I like it."

Again, Robbie's caught off guard, blinking furiously at the situation he's been confronted with. He'd been the first to arrive at a table, and now three other people have willingly enough joined him. Running his eyes over the three very different faces around him, Robbie takes a slow, careful breath. He isn't sure where he stands with Andre and Jade, maybe he's just in charge of reserving their table. He's little more certain with Tori. He's pretty sure that they're friends and that she's attempting to make friends for him. Throughout the rest of their lunch break Tori reels him into several conversations, actually succeeding in sparking a brief discussion between Robbie and Andre about guitars.

The bell for class sends them all scattering for class. Tori squawks and takes off toward the black box theatre, while Robbie splits from Andre and Jade with a stilted farewell. Though he's alone again, Robbie finds himself thinking that Beck's haphazard start to the semester may not have been the worst thing in the world. It's only been one lunch period and Robbie wouldn't call them a clique exactly, but he's confronted with the unfamiliar feeling of optimism. At his last school, friends had been few and far between. He'd only three days into his Hollywood Arts career, but even a weed amongst the beautiful and talented flowers of Hollywood Arts, Robbie can't help but feel the slightest bit comfortable. With his tenuous links to Andre and Jade, he's not quite sure if he's been accepted into Tori's social circle. Even still, these people, the beautiful people, they've been more welcoming toward him than the normal students at Sherwood Junior High. Robbie's stricken by the irony of it all, but forces his mind not to wander too deeply into the thought. As a child, when he'd still been around, Robbie's dad had consistently told his son to interact with kids his own age. It's only now, three years after the divorce, that Robbie can see the light at the end of the tunnel. He thinks it might be fanning out around the lithe figure of Tori Vega, but his eyesight's never been great.

* * *

It's his second day at Hollywood Arts, but Robbie's never really taken the chance to look at anything but the students and a lot of the time, the floor. Feeling less like an intruder within its walls after spending lunch period with Tori and her friends, Robbie slows his stroll and takes in the peculiar architecture of the school. Running his eyes along the psychedelic colours splashed across the walls, Robbie's reminded of Sherwood Middle School. Stark, grey walls lining a claustrophobic interior. It had been more a prison than a school, miserable inmates shuffling through its corridors alternating between snarls and apathy. Walking towards his next class, Guitar Theory, Robbie wishes he had wilted to his Mom's attempts at having him audition years earlier. He wonders if he would have met Tori, Andre, or even Jade years earlier if he had. Maybe he was destined to several years penance at Sherwood in order to stumble across them.

The Guitar Theory classroom is if nothing else, a sea of guitars. Dropping into a seat toward the front of the room, Robbie feels a little awed. He's been playing guitar for years, mostly on his father's beaten up acoustic. Even before he really knew what he was doing, Robbie remembers sitting on his fathers lap, chubby fingers pawing at the strings. In the past two years, he's learnt to play chord and sing at the same time, which he's heard is difficult. Maybe it's the analytical part of his brain or leftover talent from his father, but the articulations of different chords and rhythms come quite willingly to Robbie's fingertips. Between all of his eccentricities and difficulties with socialising, Robbie feels normal while he's strumming his guitar. He can kid himself that he's just like any other fifteen year old that wants to be a rock star.

"I thought you were in this class too." Robbie's plucked from his collection of thoughts and recollections by a deep baritone voice. Turning sharply, Robbie watches curiously as Andre of all people clambers into the seat beside him.

"Yeah," He replies absently, eyes wandering over the empty desks scattered in front of them. It's not Rob, not usually, but Robbie thinks he could get used to it. He's been Robbie, friendless and an island unto himself to enough people in enough classes. It's kind of nice to be Rob, possible friend. It's a little like the tickling feeling of normality that playing guitar brings about within him.

Another class, another person willing to talk to him. Robbie thinks he could get used to this.

* * *

Over the next six weeks, Robbie falls into a comfortable routine. Hollywood Arts ceases to be a labyrinth of fluorescent corridors and unfamiliar places. Robbie feels slightly more comfortable in his own skin. The one exception is the lead up to the first lunch period after Beck has served his last in a long line of lunchtime detentions. Jittery all morning, Robbie is a nervous wreck by the time Tori flops into the seat beside him in Chemistry class.

"You're wazzing." She states bluntly, eyebrows hooking over her nose.

A shaky laugh rattles through Robbie's lips. Folding his hands over his lap, Robbie's in the beginning stages of formulating an excuse for his behaviour when Tori stops in his tracks. A raised eyebrow, that's all it takes for the truth to come spiralling out of Robbie.

"N-no. Just nervous. Do you mind – is there, is there room at our table for my friend?" He says, stumbling all over his words.

Tori giggles at that, shaking her head. "You know there is." She states, lips askew with a crooked smile.

The rest of class flits by with surprising ease. Robbie falls into a conversation with Tori that's only partially relevant to their classwork. Once in a while, Tori's hand jumps from their desk, half-heartedly slugging Robbie on the shoulder when she disagrees with him. Under the fluorescent lights, his cheeks stain an incredibly unflattering shade of puce. From the way she smirks down at her notes every time, Robbie feels quite sure that Tori is aware of his radioactive pigmentation. She doesn't mention it though, and frankly Robbie couldn't be happier. It takes a full ten minutes after Tori has taken off to her next class for Robbie's complexion to return to its usual shade.

Being that they're in the same English class just before lunch, Robbie doesn't have to search for Beck. On one hand it's a relief. On the other hand Robbie feels aggrieved that he's been robbed of a reason to put this whole union off. Beck falls into stride with Robbie easily enough after class, predictably unphased when Robbie mentions they'll have company. As they approach the quad, Robbie just wishes everyone were as laid back as Beck. Maybe then his heart wouldn't be convulsing so violently with every step.

There they are – seated around the table Beck had led Robbie to on the first day of school are Tori, Andre and Jade. Screwing his eyes shut, Robbie throws one foot ahead of another, propelling himself forward before he loses his nerve.

"This is – hey guys, it's Beck!" Robbie exclaims with what is probably more volume than necessary. Looking back, he sees Beck raising a hand in muted greeting. Even accounting for Tori's typically enthusiastic greeting, the air is thick with tension.

"Oliver." Jade states disdainfully, eyes narrowed to deadly slits.

Sensing an oncoming war Robbie edges forward, lips parting to make way for words of peace. The first vowel is just coming off his tongue when Tori springs from her seat. Casting a weary glance in Jade's direction, the girl drags Robbie down onto empty space beside her.

"Not a good idea. Never interrupt Jade." Tori whispers, tone foreboding.

Peering back over his shoulder at the harsh sound of Jade addressing Beck again, Robbie feels a surge of gratitude toward the girl clutching his forearm. Swallowing thickly, he also realizes just how close Tori is hovering. He can feel the warmth of her breath lapping against his rapidly brightening skin. The realization of their proximity seemingly hits Tori just as hard. Clearing her throat, she abruptly lurches backward, readjusting herself into a more neutral position. Robbie's lips flicker again, but ultimately he decides against mentioning the slight tinge of pink that's risen on Tori's cheeks.

"T-thanks for – for that." Robbie coughs up, startled mid sentence by another curse word emanating from Jade's direction.

"It's fine, and yeah, you get used to that." Tori says blithely, swinging her thumb in Jade's direction. Along with her composure, Tori's skin has returned to its bronze hue. It's totally cliché and more than a little pathetic, but Robbie feels his heart stutter to a brief halt when Tori turns her smile on him. When it stutters back to life, that fluttering in his chest, Robbie thinks it might be getting worse.

* * *

**Another chapter done! :D So, you know, leave us authors some love in the little review box and whatnot(;**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey all! Maybewolf and I would like to take up this little space and say that we are so sorry for our absence, it's been due to this little thing we like to call life, and writer's block. But, we are back with this spectacular chapter and we hope you enjoy it. **

**Also, we have been asked when is Cat going to appear. We would like to say that she hasn't been forgotten and that her absence has been done on purpose. She will make an appearance in a couple chapters or so, but she hasn't been totally forgotten.**

* * *

Lifting his head from his pillows at the sound of his alarm blaring, Robbie groans. November 13th, his birthday.

He doesn't feel so bad this year, maybe it's because school isn't an exercise in solitude now. The word still feels foreign in his head, but Robbie's insulated from his darkest thoughts by his friends. During biology where he would have agonized over his unwilling lab partner, Tori happily reels him into conversation. During English where he would have occupied a table to himself, Robbie huddles around a table with Beck and Andre and Jade during group discussions. During lunch periods, a time when strangers glares were at their most discerning, Robbie finds himself insulated by the warmth of Andres laugh or the burn of his own cheeks when Tori smiles at him. Life isn't so bad, it's kind of nice that preparing for school in the morning has become such a mundane experience.

Like clockwork, Robbie is whirring through his morning routine when something breaks up the monotony of it all. There's a knock at the door, too loud to be a solicitor or a Jehovah's Witness. Eyebrows screwing over the bridge of his nose, Robbie approaches the door, a touch of anxiety in his gait.

"Happy day of birth, Rob. Got you this" Beck says, a crooked grin hanging from his lips as Robbie eases the front door open. He's jabbing a package between them.

Bewildered, Robbie plucks the object from Beck's outstretched hand and gapes down at it. The packaging is haphazard, but triumphantly covering whatever it is that Canadian teenagers gift to their friends. Swiping his thumb across the object in his hands Robbie feels a little overwhelmed, but it's in a pretty awesome way.

"How did you – I didn't mention having a birthday!" Robbie exclaims, shaking his gift slightly.

"Asked your mom in September, set a reminder on my PearPhone for yesterday." Beck shrugs, staring at Robbie with a mixture of confusion and fascination. His eyes are squinted, lips all twisted up. It's an expression that Robbie imagines Beck might greet an alien with.

"It's -" Robbie briefly considers mounting a protest that a present is too much, but maybe this is just what friends do. He'd dismissed it as fiction from the television, but this gift and the moment associated with it feel incredibly genuine. Rethinking his response, Robbie smiles broadly. "Thanks man, it's awesome."

"You haven't even opened it." Beck counters, bemused.

"I know." Robbie says, pinching a loose end of paper between his fingers and tearing it open. Beneath the paper is a simple black shirt. The Beatles, it proudly announces when Robbie unfurls it.

"Tori wouldn't shut up about them in our screenwriting class." Beck explains, again shrugging carelessly. Robbie feels slightly touched that Beck is trying to make him seem cooler to their friends, Tori specifically.

Without Beck's insistence, Robbie immediately retreats into the bathroom and pulls the shirt over his head. He's just trying to show his gratitude. It's not the prospect of looking cooler in Tori's eyes.

Honestly it isn't.

Okay, maybe it is.

"The Beatles!?" Tori shrieks, barely in her seat beside him in Biology. Without warning, her slender fingers fly out, smoothing out Robbie's shirt to inspect the design.

Naturally, his cheeks immediately blaze with the heat of a summer in the Sahara. Tori doesn't realize this immediately though, eyes fixed on his shirt for an inordinate amount of time. Robbie wonder if this is how attractive girls feel when they walk past and boys stare at them all moonily. Eventually, agonizingly slowly, Tori's eyes crawl up to Robbie's face. Sheepishly, she unhands his shirt and slowly slinks back into her seat.

"Sorry." The apology springs from Tori's lips between a nervous chuckle. Her cheeks are pink. She's flustered, adorably so.

"S'ok." Robbie says brightly, mood incandescent.

There's a brief pause after that, during which Robbie absently tugs at the hem of the shirt Tori had been so interested in. When Tori does speak again, it's a new topic. Speaking enthusiastically, Tori regales Robbie with another tale of Vega family bonding gone awry. Last night's mishap had culminated in Trina accidently breaking their father's nose with a golf club. The scene Tori's words paint is vivid, Robbie's face pales. Tori laughs loudly and brightly at his reaction of horror. Affectionately jabbing at his shoulder, Tori blithely informs him that her story was nothing compared to the time Jade's family went to the zoo.

For a change, chemistry class is actually fairly productive for Robbie and Tori. A shift that can possibly be attributed to the way Mr Ferguson hovers around them for most of class. By the time the bell is screaming that the period is over, Robbie feels like their project is really coming together.

"See you at lunch." Tori announces, wriggling her fingers in his direction with a delicate farewell. She does the same thing every day, but Robbie still marvels at the fact that it's directed at him. Shaking his head and feeling fortunate, Robbie scrapes together his books and heads for the door, a spring in his step.

The rest of the day is easy, skipping past Robbie without so much as a hitch. The one wrinkle in his morning before lunch is Jade unnecessarily threatening him into giving her a pen during their English class. Robbie feels like her personality is maybe just stuck to hostile by default. He would have given it to her with a simple request.

Lunch period is where everything flies off the rails.

The first thirteen minutes drift past amid a sea of mindless banter, pleasant but nothing meaningful. Robbie drifts in and out of the conversation. Jade is describing a concert that had been gnarly in her words. Beck listens intently, a touch of awe in his posture, while Tori recoils in horror at the mention of what exactly a crust punk is. Robbie's just reminded that he hasn't quite finished his chord progression exercise for Guitar Theory. Innocently enough, he plunges his hand into his bag, intent on fishing out his workbook.

The best laid plans, they don't always come to fruition.

Robbie's got foggy recollections of packing the book, but his book bag stubbornly disagrees. Increasingly frantic, Robbie darts from Tori's side with an undignified shriek of frustration. As he flies across the quad, Robbie hears Tori's cries of concern and Jade's amusement. Wedging a door leading to his locker open, Robbie makes a mental note to explain the situation to them when he returns, workbook safely tucked under his arm.

Again, best laid plans, not always so very reliable.

Robbie returns to the table beneath the balcony, shoulders low. He cuts a defeated figure as he drops into his seat beside Tori. The book he's been looking for, has been thrown to a far-flung corner of the world, or more likely left on his desk at home. Despondent, Robbie folds his arms on the table and drops his head into them.

"Robbie, are you okay?" Tori asks, concern lacing the question. Robbie doesn't look up immediately, but when he does, Tori's hovering near him, eyebrows crouched down over her eyes.

"I'm – I lost my Guitar Theory work book!" Robbie cries, once again retreating into the crook of his elbow. Mr Gallen, the Guitar Theory tutor is tightly wound at the best of times. A small man with a massive vein in his forehead, Robbie feels fretful at the prospect of announcing that his homework is gone. Things might not be so bad if Andre were around to mellow Mr Gallen with his incredible talent, but he's away sick today. Tori mentioned him sending her a text, something about bad ketchup and his crazy grandmother. Robbie feels his stomach churn mutinously, perhaps attempting to lure him out of danger and into the nurses office. Robbie sighs. He's never been one for ditching class, not matter how great the temptation.

"People lose music all the time, the world's an imperfect place." It's Jade's voice that tugs Robbie upright this time. A typically flippant remark, but they're not really her words. Robbie recognises the quote, taken from a movie almost perpetually stuck in his DVD player.

"You've seen The Breakfast Club?" He's never really openly questioned Jade about anything before, but the question's flown from Robbie mouth before he can help himself. Predictably enough, Jade is unimpressed by his insolence. She eyes him critically over the top of her coffee cup. A small part of his soul surely shrivels up under Jade's scrutiny. The rest of him is just curious, he's never really pictured Jade watching anything other than horror movies and maybe documentaries about equally as horrible people.

"It's so good, I love the bit with the er, breakfast." Tori chimes in, all enthusiasm and wild inaccuracy. Jade's eyes circle upwards, exasperation invading her features. Beck grins down at the phone in his palm. Robbie just watches Tori nodding expectantly at the rest of them.

"The Breakfa – Goddammit Vega, I know you've never even seen The Breakfast Club. You get paranoid when I suggest we got to a PG-13 movie." Jade hisses, shaking her head incredulously.

With this information Robbie's eyebrows perk and he glances sidelong at Tori. More then anything, he wonders why she'd bother to feign the opposite. A fondness for old teen movies, it's not the more desirable trait in popular society. Whilst Robbie contemplates this, the conversation between Tori and Jade rapidly descends into an incomprehensible rumble. There might be a subtext to what they're saying, but if there is, Robbie can't make it out. Girls; sometimes Robbie thinks subtitles denoting intent would be marvellous.

"Fine." Jade sneers, hands slamming against the table. "If you're such a big fan, we'll go and see it at the theatre."

"Uh…I think you're about twenty years too late, Jade." With the comment, a grin spreads Beck's lips. Just like that, Jade's eyes swings away from Tori. Snarling, she narrows her eyes in Beck's direction.

"I know that. Ever heard of the dive theatre on 47th, Beckett?" Jade says coldly, arms folding and falling like concrete against her chest.

"I have, yes." The answer is simple and Beck nods along as if stumbling across something incredibly obviously. For the barest of seconds, Jade's expression softens. She doesn't chill the blood in Robbie's veins. But then -

"Yeah, well they're showing it all month, which last time I checked, is not twenty years ago, Beckett." Jade snaps, tone so cold Robbie feels like he's getting frostbite. Frowning at the way things have fallen apart without Andre keeping the peace, Robbie drags a fairly lifeless looking sandwich from his bag. It tastes equally as uninspiring. Robbie suspects that it might just be bland enough to make Jade docile.

"So, I like your shirt." Tori says under her breath, ducking her head in Robbie's direction and pointedly ignoring the battlefield across the table. "I don't think I've seen you wear it before, is it new?" She adds, popping a vibrantly coloured gummy worm into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

"It's uh, yeah. I got it this morning actually." Robbie admits, tentatively edging around the fact that today happens to be his birthday.

"This morning as in before school today this morning?" Tori wonders aloud, eyes brightening with curiosity.

"I uh, yeah. Beck gave it to me." Robbie murmurs, lips curving with the dim hope that maybe Tori will decide not to interrogate him further. That dim hope is extinguishing when Tori straightens her shoulders and turns to Beck, eyes narrowed.

"You gave Robbie a Beatles shirt?" Tori asks, charging headfirst into the battle between Beck and Jade. Fearlessly, she holds Beck's gaze when he turns away from Jade, eyes still blazing.

"Uh, yeah. It was his birthday present." Beck says slowly, eyes meandering around the table, caught off guard by Tori's sudden intrusion. Jade's expression mirror his, eyebrows askew, lips slightly parted. Tori makes a loud gasping sound, eyes impossibly huge all of a sudden. There are times where she reminds Robbie of a cartoon character, maybe Bugs Bunny.

"It's your birthday?" Tori shrieks, a combination of incredulity and hurt creasing her face as she Robbie's shoulder with her palms. Slightly terrified that his actions affect Tori in any way, Robbie shrinks away, cradling his arm. Beck and Jade call a ceasefire, watching with interest as Tori huffs with indignation. Robbie isn't sure how exactly it's happened, but suddenly his birthday is the central focus of their little table. Not really sure how deal with it, Robbie wrings his fingers fretfully and stares into his lap.

"It's – uh, yes." He eventually manages, tactfully watching a bird what's flittering around behind Tori. Having real conversations with people is something Robbie's not really used to. He's even less used to disappointing girls as pretty as Tori Vega.

"I'm so," Tori pauses, face crumpling up. "Robbie, I wish that I could have gotten you something!" Tori exclaims, bottom lip jutting into a pout. Robbie bites the inside of his cheek, willing it not to stain red because of the intense way Tori is watching him.

"It's uh, you didn't have to." Robbie says, jostling his shoulders uncomfortably. Tori smiles faintly, tightly as though she doesn't quite believe him.

"Shapiro, it's your birthday. Shouldn't you be like a little excited, you robot?" Jade drawls, tone not entirely hostile. Beck's head snaps in her direction, disbelief furrowing his brow. Robbie supposes Jade just appreciates that Robbie is sometimes able to divert Beck's attention from her or maybe Tori says good things about his aptitude in Chemistry.

"Yeah, you should be doing something for your birthday, Robbie. I'm taking you to The Breakfast Club, to see it – we're all going!" Tori hums agreeably, all of a sudden sparkling with excitement. Her eyes have softened, and Robbie feels touched that she looks so excited about his birthday.

"Really, you're going to watch an R-rated movie?" Jade says loudly, staring pointedly at Tori. Robbie watches as something passes between the two girls, maybe a telepathic thought or something. Tori jolts her head to the side, expression sharp as she mouths something to Jade. Jade heaves a rough sigh, glares at everyone and everything around her. "Fine. Okay. Vega, just because I want see you wazzing out, we'll go to the movies with Shapiro and Bender Junior here."

"The robot?" Tori asks, eyebrows furrowing as Beck whoops triumphantly in the background.

"The ro – the freaking robot?" Jade hisses, eyebrows swooping down in great frustration. Tori's eyes widen like a deer in front of an Eighteen-Wheeler. Robbie takes that to mean that the vein in Jade's forehead means nothing but bad things for the person to have invoked it.

Thinking quickly, Robbie plucks his phone from his pocket and rapidly swipes his finger across the screen. "Here." Robbie squeaks in what he hopes is a surreptitious way. Tori peers down at the images of The Breakfast Club that he's pulled up, lips parting slightly with realization.

"Oh," Tori intones slowly, eyes twitching back to Jade. "The Beck looking guy, the one in the denim." She adds earnestly. Jade cocks an eyebrow, but remains otherwise impassive.

Mercifully, the bell rings before Jade has a chance to explode or Tori has the chance to reconsider. Robbie squawks a hurried goodbye and sets flight for Guitar Theory. After living through that experience, Mr Gallen really doesn't seem so scary.

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**Well, that was a fabulous chapter wasn't it? You guys should leave reviews and whatnot. **

**Also, it would be fantastic if you would check out "We're Going Nowhere" by Maybewolf. Drop a review and give that story some love!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey All! Sorry for the long wait in between updates. But hey! It's all worth it. Or so I think so, and I hope you think the same. So now here's another chapter for your personal enjoyment**

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A jolt from his pocket diverts Robbie's attention from the intricacies of the minor pentatonic scale. Eyebrows bunching up, he wonders who exactly would be messaging him during class. Aside from infrequent and mostly nonsensical ramblings from Beck, Robbie's phone mostly sits neglected in his pocket. With the weariness of somebody with a strange friend, Robbie drags his phone free and rests it in the crook of his hip. When Mr Gallen turns to scribble something on the white board behind him, Robbie casts a surreptitious glance at his phone.

_"Popcorn 2night? – It's Tori :-{)"_

_"Sure! You have my number!?"_

_"Made Beck give it 2 me. Owe him gummy hockey pucks now."_

_"Haha I will make it up to you."_

Confounded, Robbie stares blankly at his phone. The prospect of Tori Vega, all bronzed and gorgeous, asking Beck for his number, it short circuits something in Robbie's brain. He sits in his seat, mostly unmoving for an interminable amount of time after that. To Robbie it feels like an age, to Mr. Gallen it's just too long. The fog that's settled over Robbie's mind is eventually chased away by Mr. Gallen's footsteps, loud as thunder, bearing down on him. Slowing to a halt in front of Robbie's desk and folding his arms, five foot tall Mr. Gallen looks impossibly massive. Robbie swallows nervously, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. To the expectant look on Mr. Gallen's face, he delicately explains his homework situation.

Perhaps there had been a staff memo that today is his birthday, but the storm of words that Robbie's expecting never quite arrives. Calmly enough, albeit in a clipped tone, Mr. Gallen tells him tomorrow will be fine, just this once. Exhaling with great relief, Robbie watches Mr. Gallen trudge over to another students desk, thunderclap footsteps rolling into the distance.

Tori sends him a few more messages before the end of class, mostly just mindless chatter. Still, Robbie feels his pulse quicken every time his phone goes off. It's stupid, he knows. Today is his first time though, he's never had a real live teenage girl messaging him during class. Though it's mindless chatter, empty data floating between friends, the experience strikes him as the slightest bit intimate. By the time the school bell is rattling to life, screaming at the wall, Robbie's biting back a smile at Tori's latest guess as to his favourite band. Apparently he reminds her of Seth from The OC, so he must love slightly sad indie bands like Deathcab For Cutie. If he ignores the shared Judaism and penchant for stuttering around girls, Robbie guesses it's the shared frizz of their hair that's led Tori to this conclusion.

When Robbie slinks into the hallway, hand still glued to his phone, he spots Beck skulking around their lockers. His hands are shoved deeply into his pockets and he's got his earbuds in. He looks impossibly cool as he lifts his head and waves. Robbie feels a twinge of envy as he crosses the hallway.

"Yes movies, lets go." Tori says, eyebrows arrowing down, a cleft deepening between them. Watching the peculiar expression on her face, Robbie's caught off guard when Tori peels herself away from Jade and launches herself in his direction. Latching onto his arm, Tori leads him into the theatre. Passing through the doorway, Robbie comes out of his daze. Moving delicately, he slips his fingers into his pocket; fishing for the wad of money he's accumulated through a complete lack of a social life.

"What are you doing?" Tori asks, eyes hardening slightly. In his haste to avoid her mistrustful glare, Robbie realizes that oh god, Beck and Jade are several steps behind them. Tori's separated him from the herd; he's all alone with her. Robbie's mind teeters between fear that Tori is some kind of wolf hidden beneath the pelt of a sheep and elation that she's chosen him to lure away.

"I'm uh – money to pay for us?" He answers carefully, eventually deciding that he's willing to take his chances with getting scratched.

"No, no, no." Tori fires back, batting at his arm with one hand and tightening her grip around the crook of his elbow with the other. Blinking, Robbie tries to bring himself back into reality. In his limited experience with girls – mostly extended study sessions – Robbie's paid for everything. The concept of a girl spending time with him and not expecting something in return, it's still almost entirely alien to him. Searching for answers, Robbie peers over his shoulder. The shrug that Beck meets him with isn't at all helpful, so he turns back to Tori, a protest coming to life on his lips.

It's then that Jade speaks. "I would recommend not doing that, Robot." She cooly informs him, somehow parsing Robbie's body language, discerning his intentions without even really being able to see his face. Stricken, Robbie pauses, eyebrows knitting together.

"It's your birthday, Robbie. Your birthday. I don't have a present for you so I will buy our tickets tonight." Tori says, like it makes any kind of sense. Staring at her profile, wishing he were as adept at reading people as Jade, Robbie's still baffled by it all. Tori's determinedly marching them forward and trying to look authoritarian, but just looking cute. Robbie thinks it's the softness in her eyes that is ruining the effect.

It's only when they're in the lobby that Tori slowly uncoils her arm from Robbie's. Jabbing a finger in his direction one last time, Tori spins on her heel, this time sweeping Jade up in her haste. Robbie just watches them cross them room, a little bit amazed that Jade isn't struggling against Tori. Running his fingers over the spots where Tori's fingers had touched his skin, Robbie swears he can feel electricity crackling. Chewing on the inside of his lip, Robbie ponders whether Tori had realized whether is was entirely necessary to coral him as she had. Gnawing at his lip a little harder, Robbie abandons the thought as best he can. If he doesn't analyse it too closely, he can just go on thinking Tori likes his skeletal frame.

"Aren't you going to get a ticket?" Robbie asks, nerves still shot. Beck, who to that point had been glaring at the pimply faced boy serving Tori and Jade turns to Robbie. Expression softening, he pulls his shoulders into a shrug.

"Nah, Tori owes me. Really wanted your number I guess." Beck replies, languidly going about dropping an atom bomb into the atmosphere. As Beck's eyes pull away again, Robbie just takes a deep breath, trying to slow his heart.

Unsure of what to do next, Robbie does what he always does. He copies Beck. He casts his gaze across the room, finding Tori just as she's rummaging around in her bag. Her head is bowed, eyebrows clenched together in concentration. When she finally fishes out a small purse and cries in triumph, Robbie swallows. He wonders if he's just convinced himself she'd been sticking close to him, hooking her arm through his. The longer he watches her, the less likely it seems. He wonders if he's delusional, living in a void that's not quite reality and not quite fantasy.

It's almost a relief that something has gone wrong with Jade's payment and that her angry shriek rips through the air. It's loud and piercing, an easy distraction from his thoughts. The respite is brief though, lasting only until Tori's eyes flick away from Jade, landing on Robbie. He shifts from foot to foot, eventually yanking his arm into a clunky gesture that's reminiscent of a wave. Tori bites back a laugh, eyes eventually finding their way back to the rapidly escalating scene in front of her. Robbie slinks back into his head, thoughts even more jumbled than before.

Tori's expression flicks between guilt and amusement as she and Jade turn away from the ticket booth. Robbie watches with interest, wondering what exactly it had been that Jade had said to the now trembling man behind the booth. He imagines there was some kind of threat buried amongst her words, or maybe resting proudly atop them. That's generally the way Jade's conversations play out. Robbie sometimes wonders what it is that Beck sees in her. He imagines falling in love with Jade would be a lot like playing with fire. Not that he's actually mentioned this to anyone or -

"We need snacks." Jade crabs out, folding her fingers and inspecting her nails. It's a soft gesture at odds with the demanding tone in her voice. When Jade looks up again, it's not at Robbie. He's not sure whether to feel grateful or offended that Jade only shoots a warning glare at Beck, like he's the only one capable of mutiny.

"C'mon Rob," Tori says, taking a step forward. "We'll go and get snacks for the Grumpasaurus." She tells him, a soft crease in her lips accompanying the teasing tone in her voice.

Robbie feels momentarily thrilled, all the way up until Jade's eyes widen. Her eyebrows swoop down in disapproval and her lips press more tightly together. Robbie senses extremely disapproval in the expression, and from the way Tori's shoulders hunch, he thinks she does too.

"Nuh uh, Vega." Jade intones, unexpectedly placid. "You are not ditching me and leaving me with Bender." She adds, the slightest bit of venom creeping into her tone. Beck opens his mouth to protest, but Jade's already smirking, threading her arm though Tori's, and dragging the distressed looking girl away.

Watching the door to the auditorium swing shut behind Tori and Jade, Robbie isn't sure what to think. Sure, there's disappointment roiling in his gut, tendrils jabbing at the lining of his stomach. There's also an unfamiliar sense of optimism battling against it, armed with the knowledge Tori had been willing to ditch Jade with Bender.

"So, uh. What are we going to buy?" Robbie wonders aloud, as Beck and himself set off toward the concession stand. His heart pads anxiously in his chest, not really because of Tori's preferences, but Jade's. If there is to be a scene in relation to what they come back with, Robbie imagines it will emanate from her.

"Jade dragged Tori away before she could buy my candy." Is all Beck replies, tone mournful. "She owes me." He adds, eyes pointed as they cut to Robbie.

"I'll buy them for you." Robbie says, thrusting his hand into his pocket, fishing around for his allowance. It's not long for this world, but he can't bring himself to really care.

A grin crawls across Beck's lips and he's fondly clapping Robbie on the shoulder. That's not entirely why Robbie's so happy to part with his money though. Sure, it's nice having a friend, maybe a best friend, but there is also somebody else. A bronzed girl with a pretty smile that Robbie thinks he might miraculously have a connection with. It's unlikely sure, borderline delusional maybe, but Robbie thinks he can impress her a little bit with the right array of snacks.

Huffing slightly under the weight of an entire concession stand, Robbie battles his way through the door Beck is holding ajar. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the reduced light, but Tori and Jade stick out amongst the empty seats. Cradling the box of snacks against his abdomen, Robbie edges his way forward.

Jade's the first to spot him, a vague look of interest crossing her face as she watches Robbie approach, Beck on his flank. "Jesus. Did you two mug them and take the entire concession stand?" She calls across the room, eyebrow cocked.

"What can I say? We're outlaws." Beck says, effortlessly charming as he comes to stand beside Robbie. Dropping the box of snacks into the lone seat between Jade and the aisle, Robbie turns his eyes to Beck. His eyebrows, one arced artfully, a cinematic smirk hanging from his lips. Surveying his companions, Robbie feels out of place, like maybe he's been cast in the wrong movie. If by some cast he's in the right film, there's no doubt Beck is the lead, Jade is his love interest and Tori is the beautiful best friend. Robbie is the gormless sidekick, the one with minimal screen time and no chance of getting the girl. Glumly, Robbie steps past Jade and Tori, slumping into his seat, ignoring the glare Jade sends his way. One of these days, he's going to give himself whiplash with these mood swings.

"Tori, do I look like an outlaw?" Robbie asks after a while, noticing that Tori Is uncharacteristically quiet and Beck has reeled Jade into a conversation. With the question, Tori perks, eyes sliding to Robbie.

"I think you could be an outlaw, Robbie Shapiro." She says, lips splitting into a dazzling smile. Robbie thinks the way his mood veers from depression to elation actually does give him whiplash. Tori's eyes linger on him; flecks of gold in her iris apparent even in the dimly lit theatre.

It's then that a sharp stab of music crackles through the air. Tori's eyes fill with wonder as the Universal Studios logo fades into black and a David Bowie quote is splayed across the screen. Once she's read the words, Robbie catches Tori's eyes resting on him for the briefest of stolen moments before her gaze returns to the screen.

For the next ninety minutes or so, that's mostly where Tori's dark eyes linger. Robbie's seen The Breakfast Club maybe fifty times before, during his darkest moods. There's something comforting about seeing all of the main cast fall apart in one way or another, like it's all just a bump in the road to growing up. It's for that reason Robbie finds his eyes constantly wandering to Tori during the films biggest scenes, curious as to what her reaction will be. She's predictably adorable, lost in the plot and gripped by each characters plight. Once, during the casts dance number, Tori actually throws a glance over her shoulder at him as well! Their eyes meet for maybe a second, and then Tori's eyes are back on the screen, a pink tinge rising on her cheeks. Robbie thinks this thing with Tori, the way the heart flutters when she's around; he thinks it might be more than a crush. He thinks he actually has feelings for her.

Dammit.

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**Well all, I told you it would all be worth it now didn't I? So, ya'll should leave a review and give this story some love. Cause that makes Maybewolf and I feel happy and stuff. **


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